


The Thing I Really Dread

by DoctorTrekLock



Series: Resolution19 [7]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is a Good Friend, Crowley does Not Like spiders, Gen, Siri is annoying, even to demons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-02-12
Packaged: 2019-10-27 00:00:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17756021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorTrekLock/pseuds/DoctorTrekLock
Summary: It was watching him. Crowley knew it was watching him. He was getting cold as the bathroom fan rattled, drawing cooling moisture off his skin as the shower drip, drip, dripped, but he didn't dare take his eyes off it.He quickly contemplated several possible courses of action. He could ignore it and hope it went away (but it would stillbethere, just out of sight). He could miracle it away (but that might make itangry). He could...take care of it himself (but it was sofast, his mind wailed at him,what if it got away).





	The Thing I Really Dread

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Mirror, Mirror](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12111930) by [ImprobableDreams900](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImprobableDreams900/pseuds/ImprobableDreams900). 



> Prompt: "Crowley usually had to fetch Aziraphale to squash particularly large spiders."  
> Source: "Mirror, Mirror" Ch 4 by ImprobableDreams900  
> Title: "The Spider" by Flanders and Swann
> 
> Originally posted February 6, 2019 on [Tumblr](http://doctortreklock.tumblr.com/post/182614790367/the-thing-i-really-dread-february-6-2019)

It was watching him. Crowley knew it was watching him. He was getting cold as the bathroom fan rattled, drawing cooling moisture off his skin as the shower drip, drip, dripped, but he didn't dare take his eyes off it.

He quickly contemplated several possible courses of action. He could ignore it and hope it went away (but it would still _be_ there, just out of sight). He could miracle it away (but that might make it _angry_ ). He could...take care of it himself (but it was so _fast_ , his mind wailed at him, _what if it got away_ ).

Crowley slowly reached for the nearest towel on the towel rod and patted his hands dry before wrapping the towel around his waist. Then he carefully miracled his mobile phone from the counter into his hand. He unlocked it by muscle memory and was about to glance down to find Aziraphale's contact info when he paused. There was no telling what might happen if he looked away for even a split second.

He hesitated. Crowley held his phone up closer to his face and held down the "home" button. "Siri, call Angel."

After several frustrated attempts to get Siri to call "Aziraphale" and not "Zero Phil, what are you doing, Siri, 'Zero Phil' isn't even a thing," he'd given up and just entered his counterpart in as "Angel." The good news was that Aziraphale would never find out, even if Crowley handed his phone over, complete with passwords. (Aziraphale was still coming to terms with the ability to send "textual messages" through the phone.)

"Just to confirm," Siri chirped cheerily, "you'd like to call Angel, mobile." Leave it to the Americans to invent something so terrible that it annoyed a demon with six millennia of experience dealing with the worst of humanity.

"Call," Crowley snarled. It was still there, just sitting ever so calmly in the middle of his bathroom floor, as if it _owned_ the place.

"Calling," Siri informed him serenely.

"'Bout bloody time," he muttered.

After three, four, c'mon, angel, five, _six_ rings, Aziraphale finally picked up. "Crowley?" Crowley could almost see the puzzled bafflement that would have set in on the angel's face. "Is everything alright? We're not set to meet at the Ritz for an hour, right? I'm not late--"

"Aziraphale," Crowley interrupted. "I need your help."

"Of course, my dear," Aziraphale answered promptly. "Whatever is it?"

It was still on his floor, thank Someone. Crowley didn't know what he'd do if it had moved. "There's a spider in my bathroom." There was a moment of silence on the line, and Crowley rushed to fill it. "Would you be able to come over and take care of it?"

Aziraphale's voice was warm. "Of course, my dear," he reiterated. "I'll be right over."


End file.
